by Vanessa Dare
“I would never use your body to prove a point, love. Know that. I’m making you come because words aren’t working. You need to feel to know there’s too much at stake just to run away.” As he spoke, his hands worked their way up to my hips, my skirt now bunched up. I felt the cool air on my legs, knew by the flare of heat in his eyes he could see my panties, see they were wet from my orgasm.
This, oh…this was what he was trying to get across to me, but I wouldn’t relent. The man was ruthless. But gentle. His thumbs slid back and forth over the lacy edge of my panties and I arched my hips—I couldn’t help it—up into his touch. My skin was hot, almost feverish, every nerve ending awake and responsive to Nick’s hands. The way he made me feel, the way he looked at me only enhanced…everything.
“I’m going to make you come until you agree with me.”
Oh God, he was going to kill me with orgasms. He wasn’t giving me a choice, actually ripped my control from me. Nick shifted back on the couch and slowly shimmied my panties down my legs, raising goose bumps in his wake. I was completely exposed to him, my blouse parted, my skirt at my waist. I was too aroused to be embarrassed.
Nick’s gaze raked over me as he tucked my panties into his shirt pocket, the cocky bastard, then lowered himself down between my spread thighs. He nudged my leg wide, my foot falling to the floor, opening me up to him. Now, I was embarrassed. I tried to bring my knees together, but he was having none of it, his hand stopping me.
“So pretty,” he said, his eyes almost black, every line of his body taut as he looked his fill. “So fucking pretty.” As if I didn’t feel vulnerable and open enough, he moved my other leg, lifted it up over his shoulder and I cried out his name in surprise. Modesty didn’t matter to him, or he was ignoring me, because he lowered his head and I felt his hot breath over my very center. Oh my God. He was going to… Embarrassment was gone, driving need took over. I was close…so, so close. He only had to touch me and I’d go off like a firecracker. Please.
“I’ve dreamed about doing this to you. Get ready, you’re going to come. Again. And again until you agree to stay.”
***
I awoke sprawled across my bed, opening my eyes to the soft morning light. The muted sounds of the city filtered in, and I could tell just by listening that it was still very early. My arm reached out to touch the space where Nick had slept. The only indication of his being there was a dent in the pillow and the sheet pulled back. His scent lingered, but the man was missing.
A quick flare of panic jolted me upright. I looked around. The clock read a little after six. Had he left? Had he done what I’d asked—no demanded—him to do? Was he now on his way back to Denver? The white sheet pooled about my waist and I was naked beneath, my nipples tightening in the cool air. Or maybe it was the memory of what he did to me the night before. His clothes weren’t on the floor, no cell phone on the bedside table. No shoes. Listening closely, no sound came from the other room. He’d left and he hadn’t even said goodbye!
Wait. Had he done the things to me last night as a way of saying goodbye? Who was I kidding? He’d pushed me to three orgasms before I gave in and agreed that he should stay, that I didn’t want him to leave. My body tingled at the thoughts of what he’d done to me. But where was the man that went with the skill?
I was being completely irrational. Emotions were overwhelming common sense. Take a deep breath and think.
I smelled coffee.
He was still here. Butterflies fluttered in my belly and something akin to…happiness swept through me. Made me feel giddy. It was a strange sensation, definitely something very unfamiliar. Nick hadn’t left. He was here.
I dashed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth before throwing on some fresh clothes. After last night and what he’d done to me, I shouldn’t be modest anymore, but I was. Perhaps even more so now. I wasn’t prepared to face him naked in the daylight and would probably be some time before I was able to do so.
As I opened the door to the living room, trepidation swept through me. Would he mean what he’d said last night? Had he changed his mind? Was he just getting some coffee before he left? I inwardly rolled my eyes at my wayward thoughts, took another deep breath, and sucked it up.
Nick sat on the couch, hair askew, wearing only—oh man, only his jeans. No shirt. He was confident in his body. No modesty issues with him.
I came around the couch and saw he was on his cell. He looked up at me, talking quietly to the person on the line and I gave him a little smile. He held out his hand and I took it, relieved. Giddy, once again. As I sat down, he pulled me in close to his side, his arm wrapped around me.
As he listened to the person talk, he kissed the top of my head. Soft, gentle. Tender, even. His skin was warm and I could see every cut line of his muscles. The crisp hair on his chest tapered into a V and then into a line that disappeared behind the unbuttoned waistband of his jeans. I tried not to drool at the first sight of him without his shirt. He smelled like my soap and something I was coming to recognize as Nick’s own scent. I liked it, oh…I liked it a lot.
“Okay, let me know what time,” he said, then disconnected. “Hi. Sleep okay?”
“Mmm,” I murmured, reveling in just being held and the very fact that he hadn’t left. Yes, I was dwelling on that, but I expected him to leave, no matter how much he’d been against it the night before.
Everyone left.
It was really only a matter of time. Even knowing that, it was hard to keep from feeling for him. Wanting him. Lusting after him. What we did last night, definitely lust. It hadn’t been enough. The way my body warmed at my wayward thoughts meant it was learning to react to Nick. Warning bells should be going off, but who wanted to heed them when I knew what pleasure he could bring me? “I want coffee, but I don’t want to get up.”
I felt Nick smile against my forehead. “We could just stay here on the couch all day, continue where we left off last night.”
I groaned. Literally groaned. The very idea of having Nick touch me again…made it slip out.
Nick shifted, turning his large body into me so I had to lean back. I was once again on my back on my couch and beginning to really like this position. Running his hand over my hair, he brushed it off my forehead. “Make sounds like that and see what happens.”
The idea was very enticing. After I’d given in to Nick’s demands last night, agreed I wouldn’t go and get a new identity…again, I barely remembered he’d carried me to bed, held me all night.
I ran my fingers over his rough cheek, then back to hook behind his neck, feeling the silky texture of his short hair.
“We need to talk,” Nick said, his eyes searching over my face, as if memorizing it. His breath was minty, with a hint of coffee. It made me wonder how long he’d been up.
“I like this position for talking,” I replied.
Shifting, I bent a knee and slid my leg up next to his hip, allowing him to settle against my sex. It was his turn to groan. I felt him, hard and thick through our clothes. In my haste to dress, I’d put on a pair of cut-off shorts and a white tank top, not considering the easy access he had last night with my skirt.
Nick grinned, that wicked dimple forming and I was a goner. Melted, softened, let go all at once. He lowered his head to nuzzle first his nose, then his lips at my neck. Instinctively, I tilted my head to the side to give him better access. “I do, too. I can’t think when you have me like this. I figured out how to deal with Moretti”—he shifted his hips like he did last night—“but we can save it for later.”
“What? You came up with an idea?” I pushed up against his chest, the crisp hair springy against my palms. Nick nipped the spot where my neck and shoulder met and pleasure zinged through me. “God, Nick. I can’t think…we need—”
“I love the way your skin tastes, how your body comes alive beneath my hands, my mouth.”
A little moan of pleasure escaped my lips. “Moretti,” I gasped.
“That’s not the name I want to hear right
now,” Nick murmured against my neck. With one last little lick, he sat back.
Looking up at him, he was pure, virile male. His chest was broad, tanned and toned with slabs of muscle. He looked down at me with eyes almost black like midnight, dark and dangerous. His hair swept over his brow, tousled from sleep and my fingers. It was blatantly obvious his need for me was as strong as mine for him.
“I want to hear your idea. He’s always going to be between us otherwise.”
Nick’s look softened. “Nothing will come between us.” As he spoke, he ran a finger in lazy circles around my nipple through my tank top. His eyes followed his finger’s ministrations. “He’s just a distraction, love, but you’re right. Once we get him off our backs, then I can take you to bed. For days.”
The very idea had me rethinking why I pushed him away to begin with. I wanted Nick with such intensity it stunned me. I wanted to solve the Moretti problem so we could fulfill Nick’s fantasy…again and again.
Oh no. I’d done it.
When had Nick become a forever kind of guy? He’d slipped in so easily, so quickly. I’d tried to avoid him, held him away. Even pushed him away. Literally. But he’d gotten over those stupid walls I constantly built and maintained and into my heart. Now what was I going to do?
First, we had to survive Moretti’s hit man on Monday. Then, I could think about it. Figure it out, decide what I was going to do about Nick, and how I felt about the whole thing. Did I really even want to love a man? I’d been doing just fine without one until now. My traitorous body got a few orgasms and offered up my heart for the chance of more. After what I experienced last night, I wanted more. He made me wet just by a roaming finger over my nipple, and I was panting with desire for him. Hell, yeah.
Nick sighed, pulled his hand away, then swung his large frame off me and sat at the far edge of the couch. My mouth watered, watching his back muscles ripple and flex as he shifted. He looked over at me and pointed to the kitchen. “You can’t lie there like that with your nipples hard and not expect me to do things to you. Don’t give me that look, you know what I’m talking about. If you really want to talk, go get some coffee and stay away from me.”
I didn’t want to mention he was the one who’d made my nipples that way so I just did as I was told—perhaps for the first time with him—and got up and poured myself of cup of coffee. Instead of sitting on the couch next to him, I moved to the armchair, sank in and waited.
“You actually gave me part of the idea last night.”
I just raised my eyebrows in surprise and let him talk. Took a sip of my black coffee.
“You said getting a new identity would protect you. But Moretti’s going to want proof you’re dead. A body, photos, a news report of a murder. Something. He won’t just let me, or that guy last night, return to Denver and report you disappeared. You’d still be a loose end.”
I nodded, following him so far. “Even though all I did was get the wrong rental car?” The next time I got a rental car—if ever—I’d pop the trunk before I drove off the lot.
“Unfortunately, yes.” He sighed. “So, we do what you want while giving Moretti what he wants.”
“Okaaay,” I said. My stomach plummeted. He wanted me to leave him?
“We stage your murder, then you, instead of getting a new identity, go back to your old one.”
I almost spilled my coffee in my lap. I felt the blood drain from my head. Nick must have seen it because he grabbed my mug, placed it on the table and pushed my head between my legs. “Jesus, don’t pass out on me.”
Staring at the light fabric of my chair from between my legs, I said, “Go back to being Olivia? Why? I can get a perfectly new name and life.”
“Because it’s time to stop running, to stop hiding and take your life back.”
I sat up slowly, took a deep breath. “I’ve spent over ten years hiding from my father and Todd. Why would I want to expose myself to them now?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” He looked at me with concern, a deep V marring in his forehead. “What do they have over you?”
“They kept me in jail, wanted me to rot there. The entire justice system was against me. Who knows what they could do if I came back.”
Nick took my hand in his. “Like you said, it’s been over ten years. They have nothing on you. You have your money. They can’t touch it. They can’t touch you.”
“They could try me for David’s murder.”
“With what? There’s no evidence, no witnesses. It’s been a decade.”
“There’s no statute of limitations on murder. I wasn’t tried, so no acquittal, no double jeopardy.” The coffee burned in my stomach. “It’s not that simple.”
“You walked into Scorch as if the world couldn’t touch you because Moretti owed you. Owed you to help with your half-sister. If you were a guy, I’d say that took balls. You are so strong. So brave. You’re not eighteen anymore.” His gaze roved my face as if searching for something. “You can’t help your half-sister if you aren’t Olivia. She’ll only trust the real you.”
I laughed dryly, stood up. Looked down at Nick. “What makes you think she’ll trust Olivia? You realize, I’ve never actually met her. I don’t know what she’s been told about me, if she’s been brainwashed or raised to be a total bitch like her mother. She may even want to marry Todd.”
Nick reached for his cell sitting on the table, ran his fingers over it, stood as well and held it out so I could see the screen. I closed my eyes, blocking out the picture it showed. Blocking out the memory. It was my engagement photo with Todd. He was behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder, both of us sharing our joy with the camera. My smile had been honest, showing my happiness at being wanted. Needed. But it was only short-term happiness. I had no doubt Todd was smiling because he was going to get his hands on my money. At least that’s what he’d thought at the time.
“If she’s a total psycho bitch, then it won’t make a difference. But if she’s in trouble like you think—perhaps hope, since that means she’s a good person—she’ll trust Olivia—you—because you’ve been in her shoes.” Softly, Nick ran a finger down my cheek, and I opened my eyes. “You know what she’s going through, what she’ll go through if you don’t help her. What I don’t know is why. Why is your ex now marrying your step-sister?”
“It’s pretty gross,” I pointed out.
“Uh, yeah,” Nick countered.
“Elizabeth’s mom is an heiress. My dad wouldn’t have married for love. My mom hadn’t even been dead a year before their wedding. Drain parts.”
“Huh?” Nick asked, looking confused.
“Her family invented some kind of drain part that’s an industry standard. Let’s just say there’s a lot of money in plumbing.” I grabbed my coffee off the table took a sip. Went to the kitchen and topped it off. “She’s got early onset Alzheimer’s. That’s not public knowledge, but I dug it up online. My father wouldn’t want that kind of information made public. Neither would Todd. Elizabeth’s the sole heir.”
“Holy shit,” Nick murmured from the living room.
“Right. Holy shit. Elizabeth’s mom is in her early fifties—”
“—so her life expectancy went from about thirty more years to just a few,” Nick finished for me. He was working through it, could now see why Todd was ruthless. “Your ex needs to marry her now before the mother dies and someone else snatches her up. What if that money’s all tied to your sister like your money was?”
“Maybe he’s running out of options.” I shrugged. “He’s getting older so being a kept man with that kind of money might not be too bad. Besides, being an heiress to a plumbing supply empire is much more substantial than my inheritance from my mother.” I stepped over to my desk, messed with my papers, unseeing. “It’s really ironic. Like you said, I was fearless going into Scorch that night. I was so daring, just walking through that door, because I needed help to save Elizabeth. That was easy. I did that as Anna, and envisioned helping Elizabeth while staying as A
nna. Period. Now, you’re the one who’s trying to push me to help my half-sister.” Turning to face Nick, I added, “I’m the one that’s balking. I just can’t be Olivia again. People don’t give up a new identity and return to the old one. That’s insane.”
Nick held up his hands. “Fine. Let’s forget about that for a minute because that’s not what we need to deal with first anyway. We can’t help her unless we stay alive.”
“Right, you’re going to stage my murder.” I was a little skeptical and it came out in my voice. Any idea with the word murder in it couldn’t be good. “How are we going to pull that off?”
Nick grinned, his dimple winking at me. Like a little boy plotting an adventure. “With a little help from Uncle Frank.”
Grif
Anna wasn’t telling me something. I could see it in her eyes. I couldn’t even imagine how hard this was for her, reliving the one time she’d let someone in, let her emotions rule, and she was tossed aside, left to rot in jail. She hadn’t just been dumped, she was kept in jail by those she cared about, the men she believed cared about her. They’d just left her there. She’d been betrayed at a level even I couldn’t fathom. Nadine had betrayed me, left me for another man. It had bothered me for years. Perspective changed quite a bit. Nadine’s actions were nothing compared to Todd Lawton, to Grayson Edwards.
If Anna became Olivia again, she could be tried for killing her brother-in-law, just like she’d said. She hadn’t gone to trial. Double jeopardy couldn’t save her. To be released like she had, evidence had to be solid in her favor. Proof that she’d shot David Lawton in self-defense. How could it change after all this time?
Was this the only reason she was still in hiding, or was there more? As I peeled back the layers that made up Anna, I recognized there was more she wasn’t sharing, something big, something that kept her fearful, paranoid even, even years later. I had to find out what it was. I’d texted Peters to look into it, carefully, without drawing attention to his search.
